Mila

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I slowed my breathing as best I could and felt the words inching their way from the pit of my stomach up toward the back of my throat, where they stopped. It felt like I might choke on them. I commanded myself to keep breathing. The words were almost there. I opened my mouth and they crept out, one small syllable at a time.
Unbound: My Story of Liberation and the Birth of the Me Too Movement
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